


there is a point when tears don’t work to wash things away anymore

by areyoumarriedriver



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/pseuds/areyoumarriedriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"None of it will happen now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	there is a point when tears don’t work to wash things away anymore

**_there is a point when tears don’t work to wash things away anymore_**  
  
Her hands shake as she finishes his work, twists the cables and hotwires him to his death. The blue light is melancholy and she appreciates that fact as he rests his head against the shoulder restraints, his eyes closed and his face lined with pain and exhaustion.  
  
She hates to see it on him.  
  
It is difficult to work when tears keep constantly clouding her vision, but she blinks and blinks and blinks to keep them at bay. They won’t solve anything now – nothing can fix this. Her chest aches, and she feels like she swallowed the pandorica whole – sharp corners digging into her ribs and hearts and lungs. Amy and Rory are waiting outside in a shrinking universe and she forces her hands to move faster, she has to finish before everything ends.  
  
“River,” his voice is a whisper and she runs a hand over his hair, shushing him gently.  
  
“Hush my love. Save your strength.” She is lying of course, she doesn’t want him to save his strength at all, she wants to save herself the trouble of having this pandorica of feelings burst out of her chest and bleed all over both of them. He doesn’t know.  
  
He doesn’t  _know_  anything about anything and she has less than no time to explain it to him. “No goodbyes?” His voice is weak, but the corner of his mouth is curling up like the edges of burning paper.  
  
“I can’t.” She can hear the strain within her own words and he must too, because he looks up at her with sad, ancient eyes.  
  
“None of it will happen now.” His left hand reaches toward her, fingertips brushing the edges of her hair gently and she swallows heavily, wishing she could slip under him, under bones and skin and just take his place or just go  _with_ him because she won’t exist anyway. Not without him – but he doesn’t understand any of it yet, so she doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t look at him, she simply fights back tears and continues his work. “Days we never had, eh, River? Can you tell me a secret now? Just a small one? Who are you?”  
  
She smiles at that – because he is contradictory even in death – that is hardly a small question. She looks over at him for a moment, the universe is contracting around them and she feels it and she knows he feels it, too. “It doesn’t matter now.”  
  
“It does to me.” He returns and she shakes her head before leaning forward and dropping a kiss to his crown. She lingers half a second longer than she should, and every half second counts in this universe of nothingness.  
  
“I can’t tell you.” She admits with a whisper as she pulls back and his hand halts her progress, it tangles within her hair as he stares up at her with curiosity.  
  
“Even now? Surely it doesn’t matter. If you’re my companion or my wife or my mother or my-”  
  
“Your  _mother_?” She scoffs and glares down at him, crouching before his seat and staring up at him with an arched brow. “Did that Dalek scramble your brains, you idiot?”  
  
“Did I love you River Song? Did I lead you across time and space? Did we run?” His smile is dropping and his hand falls to his lap so she folds it within her own as she watches him.  
  
“Spoilers.” She breathes the words out and he glares at her weakly.  
  
“Not anymore. Just stories now.”  
  
“You won’t die.” She promises him in a strong voice – because she believes it. Because she is River Song and he is the Doctor and she learned the hardest way imaginable that he always finds an escape route. And she’s learned well enough to never stand in his way. Again, at any rate.  
  
“You can’t believe that, River.” He protests, his head hanging forward as he peers into her eyes. “I will be on the other side-”  
  
“For how long? Lots of ways back through there if you happen to be a genius. You’ll be fine. You have to be.” He shakes his head at her words and stares at her for a moment.  
  
“Say goodbye to me, River. You won’t remember this, but you’ll know.”  
  
“I’ll remember. And I won’t say good-bye. This isn’t how it ends.” She insists in a hushed whisper and he smiles again, his hand squeezing hers gently.  
  
“So much faith, River Song. I didn’t take you for the type.” He confesses to her quietly and she glances over her shoulder to where Amy and Rory are standing, bathed in red light.  
  
“You don’t know my type, Doctor. But you will.” She looks at Rory once more and looks back at the Doctor with a smile. “If something’s remembered it can come back.”  
  
“She’ll forget, you all will.” He sounds exhausted and she disentangles her hand from his and brushes her fingers along his jaw.  
  
“Will we?”  
  
“You’re only human, River. Everything gets reset – including you. Including her. Even Rory will be rebooted – back to human.” His smile is sad and she shakes her head again.  
  
“Miracles can happen, Doctor. Just this once, plan on a miracle.” She is staring at him intently and his eyes narrow as he looks at her.  
  
“What do you know?” He is suspicious and she smiles, standing once more and looking down at him. She leans closer, pressing another kiss to the top of his head and she moves down further, her mouth by his ear.  
  
“I know that there is  _always_  a way out, my Doctor. I’ll get Amy for you.” She stands fully and he is frowning at her in confusion.  
  
“I didn’t ask-”  
  
“But you were going to. So I’ll get her for you.” She moves away but his hand slides to her wrist, halting her.  
  
“Unexplained things happen and we call them miracles. Nine hundred years, never had one and now I get two in one day? River...”  
  
She stares at him for a moment, and his hand drops from her wrist slowly, his fingertips sliding along her skin and she feels the same pull she always does with him, no matter the whens or wheres. “This one can be mine.”  
  
She turns away from him then, moving out of the metal prison and down to her parents who don’t know they’re her parents. And might possibly not be her parents if this doesn’t work out. But no, she thinks, after all this time –  
  
The universe owes them all a miracle or two.  
  
She aims to collect.


End file.
